“They lay there for a few seconds, in the dark, in the future, listening to the fabulous clockwork of their hearts and lungs, and loving each other.”
- Michael Chabon, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay
On not believing what people say to your face
I met up with my roommate’s friend yesterday for lunch and visiting art galleries. He was the one who lived in the room that we’re renting now before — it was lucky for us that he moved out right when we were searching for a place to live. Unfortunately, he hasn’t packed up everything and still has some stuff left over in a corner to move to his new place. Fellow MIT-er, graduated in 2010. Tall, lanky, blond fro, and is addicted to his smartphone.
On the train ride back from seeing several art exhibitions in Oakland, he turns to me and says:
“You know, you’re really good at saying things with a deadpan face. Are you sarcastic when you talk like that or not?”
“No, most of the time I’m not.” This is true: I am never sarcastic to hurt someone’s feelings intentionally. Never ever ever. And to be honest, this was not a foreign topic. I have been told before that I am pretty good at holding a poker face, or as Kris Atomic puts it, the chronic bitchface.
“Oh really? Cause I think you’re being sarcastic. You should watch out cause you’ve been doing that all day. If you do that to people you’re close with, you’ll cause them an incredible amount of pain. You really remind me of my first girlfriend — she liked to do that a lot.”
This is the first time I’ve met the guy and this is the conversation. Okay, bitches, here’s where the poker face comes in handy: disguising the WTFs THAT ARE RUNNING THROUGH MY BRAIN. So I calmly ask him why he is so adamant that I change my “bitchface”. It seems to be okay with my friends and other people in my life so far; maybe he needs to get to know me better. Doesn’t everybody do this sometime? How about not having control over your emotions? That’s just as bad, and oftentimes has terrible consequences. He then blabbers on some more about how my deadpanness is extremely damaging and that I’m just not getting it.
When we reach the train station at Montgomery, he turns around to me and asks me: “Meditate on it and we’ll see if you have any questions.” Then he insists on hugging me and we depart our separate ways. He comes back to the apartment later in the night to crash. And unfortunately, there are two mattresses, which means we sleep in the same room (which I was not 100% comfortable with.)
In the morning, he sees me in the kitchen and says, “Do you have any questions?” I look him straight in the eye — “Nope”. Yes, deadpan. Yes, poker face.
Like I’m going to indulge you by doing anything else.
This isn’t a movie, honey. This isn’t one of those moments that will make me turn around and find the “truth”, and change bits of myself every step of the way just to have a shell at the end. I’ve played that game before and it doesn’t end pretty. You say I remind you of your first girlfriend and that irks you? Call me when you figure out whose problem that is. Go ahead and label me a bitch for not pooping cupcakes and pandering to your ego. My friends know I am a good person and I treat the people I love well. And they sure as shit know just because someone’s smiling doesn’t mean they’re happy.
He still needs to come back to the apartment and get his stuff and gtfo. And for the record, if I was doing deadpan unintentionally before, it probably just means you can’t hold a good conversation.
After a morning and afternoon in New York City, I walked home from the train station. It was glorious. The brightness on my eyelids, the buzzing of insects. It’s a pity people in this town are extremely lazy — they use cars to go everywhere. Put the car keys down, go out and enjoy the simple, free things in life.
Especially since it’s much harder to find expensive, free things in life if you’re not a stunner. See above.
Hello World!
I’m alive, after another semester that, at times, felt like my face was being dragged through mud. I’m proud to say I’ve arrived safely (and in one piece) on the shores of senior year! Woo, bitches, next year is going to be great. I’ll be heading to San Francisco this summer so there will be plenty of exciting things to blog about.
Happy to be back.
This makes me happy.
Williams is right. I’m sorry, Lara, for all the bullshit that’s being tossed at you by your own country.
I hate people sometimes.
My new go-to phrase for someone who pisses me off at anytime is “Who needs you?” Done deal. Being around egotistical little shits is already too much fun.
Transitioning back into term …
… has been rough.
I’ve been staying up the last few nights either busy plugging away trivial tasks and surfing the internet. I always get the “term jitters” for a few days at a time before accepting the reality that my soul, for the most part, belongs to the Institute again.
BUT I have a UROP that I think I will enjoy a lot. You know what that means, my trying out a new restaurant or cafe every week might actually be sustainable without requiring hours and hours of brainless work. My friend and I are going to a swanky restaurant together on Valentines’ Day. I hope we go to the North End. I’m craving some connoli.
(Source: dishabillic, via subtledisharmony)
